


Vous les femmes ...

by Hino_Hatari



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Genderbending, Menstruation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:24:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino_Hatari/pseuds/Hino_Hatari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female Q is on her period and Bond's mission is to buy the necessary supplies for her ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vous les femmes ...

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [亲爱的女士们……](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2762960) by [purplesheep22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplesheep22/pseuds/purplesheep22)



Bond woke up when he heard the familiar voice of his partner moaning. At first, he had thought that Q was having some sort of erotic dream and what not, but when he saw Q holding her belly, curled up on herself next to him, he got worried. He could hear the faint sound of the rain falling over London outside the window, but he ignored it in favor of tending to Q.

”Something wrong, Q?” He asked, checking her body to see what was wrong, as he was already alert, as if he hadn’t been asleep even twenty seconds ago.

”This is what my body calls standard procedure, Bond. No need to alarm yourself.” Q mumbled through gritted teeth, clenching on her middle as if she was afraid something was coming out of there. Bond didn’t stop worrying however and kept checking. Eventually, he spotted the problem. Blood.

Bond paled immediately. ”I’m calling Medical.” Somehow, Q had been either poisoned or was suffering something so bad that it made him bleed from orifices she shouldn’t bleed from. 

Before he could even reach for his phone though, Q chuckled, ”it’s period blood, Bond. Don’t get on your high horse and play heroes. Just get me to the bathroom so I can clean myself up.”

Period blood.

Bond had forgotten that the other half of the human population actually bled from their vagina _every month_. It was surely because he didn’t usually stick around the same woman for too long to bother remembering such things. But Q was different. They had been together for almost a month now, which was his longest relationship since … since ever.

And since this was a new situation to him, Bond was completely at loss of what to do. He did want to help though, and his standard training had taught him that when something was bleeding, he had to stop it from actually bleeding.

”Bathroom, Bond.” Q hissed, obviously in pain. Bond hadn’t even known that period caused pain. Well, he had heard about it, of course, but he had never witnessed it first hand. He had seen Q in all sorts of situation before, and he knew very well that contrary to popular belief, Q could handle herself very well and could withstand pain astoundingly well. So, seeing her like this was quite something.

Bond nodded and quickly grabbed Q, ignoring the stains of blood on the previous immaculate white sheets, before carrying her to the bathroom.

”How do you do when I’m not here?” He asked as he deposited her on her feet by the shower.

”Don’t flatter yourself too much, 007. I can manage very well on my own, but since you are here, might as well be useful,” Q was bent, her hands on her knees as she was bracing herself for another wave of pain that made her whine softly.

Bond had trouble believing that though, seeing how Q was completely still for a moment, her face contorted in pain. But then she straightened herself as if nothing happened and shamelessly pulled off her panties, letting them fall on the floor. Q was just like that, open and honest when it came to her body — she had never been afraid of telling Bond exactly what she wanted during sex so far, and never faked orgasms. Not that anyone faked orgasms with Bond.

Bond had seen a lot of blood in his life though, but that looked like a lot of blood. ”You do realize that most people would panic at the loss of so much blood, right?” 

”You do realize that in this country alone, there are more women than men, Bond and that women do not panic at the sight of their own blood, so I doubt saying ‘most people’ is an accurate representation,” Q snapped.

Bond pursed his lips in slight annoyance. Q wasn’t so snappy usually and he decided that he would let go because Q was on her period.

But Q wasn’t upset because she was on her period. She was upset because she had ruined her favourite pajama top by getting blood on it, and the immediate vicinity of Bond just made of him a collateral target. 

Q took off the pajama top as well and picked up the panties to throw them in the laundry basket. She would wash them when she wasn’t being eaten from the inside anymore. Oh, she was still in great pain, but she had to get things done, whether or not she liked it. 

Bond saw the inside of her thighs painted with dried blood though and turned around to go back to the bedroom. Not only to give her some privacy but also because this made him very uncomfortable for some reason. 

He looked at the stained sheets and sighed. It was quite a change from when the sheets were stained of the blood of his enemies.

He decided to change them.

It didn’t take long before he heard several curses, a sort of loud whine and then his name.

”James? Would you do something for me?” Q’s voice called from the bathroom.

”I’d do anything for you, Q. Except drinking tea.” He said and made his way back into the bathroom. Q was crouched down in front of the cupboard under the sink and was staring at it in what looked like mild horror. ”What’s wrong?” 

”I have no pad or tampons anymore.” Q said blankly, as if she couldn’t quite believe such a thing was possible and not only possible but actually happened. ”I moved them to my office since it’s where I spend most of my time,” Q explained further and then tore her eyes away from the cupboard to look at him and Bond knew exactly the kind of nuclear bomb that Q was about to drop on him, ”would you go and buy some for me?”

Bond stared back at her and tried his best not to cave when she gave him the kind of look that would make him absolutely do anything for her, even drinking tea. ”I’m a bloke, Q.” He said, as if that was the ultimate defense against buying tampons and pads.

”If the Queen asked you to buy tampons and pads, would you say you’re a bloke? And it’s not written ‘forbidden for men to purchase’ on them, last time I checked. This is the twenty-first century, Bond, and even though I understand that your dinosaur brain really has trouble adjusting to the modern world, a lot of blokes actually buy tampons and pads for their partners.” Q’s glare was enough to bury away his answer and he nodded. Bond fancied himself as a fearless manly man, but in front of that glare, he felt like a little boy being reprimanded by his mother.

”Yes, sir.” He grumbled and then turned to the bedroom again.

”One Always Ultra Thin with the wings and a box of Tampax pearl.” Q called after him, but to Bond, he might have as well spoken Martian because he had no idea what Q was talking about. 

”Just text it to me.” He called back as he put on something decent enough so that he could go to Tesco. And by decent enough, he meant a designer shirt and a pair of designer jeans. Because designer clothes were the James Bond’s natural habitat, and his habits include drinking too much alcohol and mating. (Un?)fortunately, he was a nearly extinguished species, in fact, there was only one left in the world, even though a close cousin of his called the Alec Trevelyan still roamed the world, wherever the fuck he was right now.

Bond grabbed his keys and his phone, and pocketed his wallet. ”I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He said and Q chuckled.

”No, you won’t.” 

Something else very interesting about the Jamesus Bondus was that they had no idea how busy Tesco was on weekends. They weren’t city people. More accurately, they weren’t everyday life people. Q had had to teach his how to use a chip and pin machine a couple of weeks ago. Oh, they were extremely smart pets, they just had trouble adjusting to city life.

James left Q’s flat and soon enough, he was confronted to the cold air of London. 

He didn’t like the fact that Q was in pain and he wondered if this was a monthly thing. It had him extremely worried, all those whimpers and he could swear that he had seen some tears in Q’s eyes at some point. Q never cried. Q was literally the strongest, toughest woman he had ever known — including the former M and Vesper. Even though she seemed to be in great pain, Q had handled the situation with her usual cool attitude, calm and reasonable. A bit snappy, but she always was quite a bit during tense circumstances. Either it was out of habit of actually experiencing the same pain every month or maybe it was because Bond was around?

Bond liked to think that it was the latter. You see, Jamesus Bondus were top predators, easily finding themselves at the top of the food chain, and they tended to think that everyone else either needed them for one reason or another, and that others just couldn’t handle themselves when they weren’t around. They liked to think that the world revolved around their person and that everything was about them, and when it wasn’t, they had to make it about them.

He heard his phone ‘ping’ and looked at the text. He smirked a bit when Q even sent pictures with it, as if Bond wasn’t just capable of reading.

He entered Tesco and his eyes widened at the sheer amount of people inside the small store. How in the world could such a small place hold so many people?

He sighed subtly and then started looking for the tampons and pads.

Right. Why were there so many of them?

”Oh, bugger,” Bond muttered.

How much did women really bleed during their periods because there was no way they could use that entire box, right? Normal people died for bleeding that much.

He just stared at the abundance of sanitary pads, most of which were called Always and all looked the same to him. Why were they named Always anyway? Did that mean women always had their period? Wasn’t that very dangerous? Bond shook his head at that absurdity. Of course not, they didn’t have their periods forever. He knew about menopause.

But that name, Always, seemed more scary than comforting. 

Bond looked at the picture on his phone again. Right, green ones. The thing was … there were a lot of green ones and the difference was so subtle and he was actually starting to stress as if he was trying to defuse a bomb here and was wondering if it was the red wire or the blue one.

Ultra thin, it said. Bond found the ultra thin ones. 

With wings.

What? Did they fly or something?

It took him some time to understand that the wings were the little … well, wings that helped fix them to the panties. 

He had narrowed the possibility to seven of them. 

_Seven_.

Q hadn’t given more precision than that.

”Is it for your lady?” An old lady suddenly asked him, and he almost jumped — but didn’t — and looked at her. Oh, he liked old ladies — no, not like that. They were usually sensitive to his charms. Bond flushed his smile no. 12.

”Yes, I can’t figure out which one to take.” He said, as warmly as he could manage. She gave him a look that clearly showed more pity than sympathy and she grabbed a blue one.

”Here. This one is good for everyone,” she said and then patted his cheek gently before leaving, ”have a good day.”

”Thank you, have a good day,” James smiled contritely and then stared at the packet in his hand. Q would kill him if he didn’t bring exactly what she wanted, and this one wasn’t it. ”Oh, bugger,” he repeated again and put it back where it belonged before grabbing the seven different kind of Always Ultra Thin With Wings. At least one of them would be satisfactory, right?

Now, the tampons. They were a bit further down the alley.

And there were as many of them as there were pads.

Why the hell did women need so many of those? After all, the use was the same, why did they need wings, and pearl and silk and God knows what else? Couldn’t the manufacturers make a standard one that would work on everybody? Bond groaned.

Pearl.

Why the hell were there pearls in stuff that you put in your vagina? Was that really necessary? Didn’t they end up flushed down the toilet eventually?

And there were a fucking lot of them. 

_Twenty-one_.

He was sure there was less varieties of yoghurt than there were of Tampax in here. 

Which one should he get?

He grabbed one of them, and another one and tried to compare what was written on the box but he couldn’t spot any difference whatsoever. One had an applicator. What was an applicator? Would Q need that? Q liked apps … maybe that meant there was an app for checking on it or something?

The things that young people did nowadays …

Completely out of his natural milieu, James's Bondus decided that he should get one of each — again.

Satisfied of his helpful ideas in purchasing vital supplies for his damsel in distress, Bond made his way to the check out, ignoring the looks that every single woman he crossed gave him, and shared the sympathy looks he got from every bloke. It felt good to have some sort of manly sympathy compared to the pity he saw in the ladies’ eyes.

Bond eventually put the basket on the counter and the pretty little brunette behind just burst out laughing.

”Oh my god, Kate, come here, you have to see this,” she said, turning her back to him to call whoever Kate was.

Bond pursed his lips in embarrassment and a bit of annoyance.

Kate came out of from the back and then burst laughing as well and then went back to call more lady friends of hers so that they could all laugh at Bond’s expense.

This was mildly humiliating.

”You do realize you don’t need to buy all of that, right?” One of the ladies said and Bond huffed. 

”You do realize that I might be in a bit of a hurry, right?” He snapped dryly. They all glared at him but then started checking out his items.

It was then that Bond saw the price of every single one of them.

Why in the world were things that were destined to end up flushed down the toilet cost so much? Not that Bond was poor, or thrifty — he had bought Q lavish underwear from Victoria Secret that were definitely overpriced for so little fabric but they had spent one of the best nights of his life, and hopefully her life as well — but he would have never thought that those things cost so much.

”One hundred and seven pounds fifty three, please.” She said, still grinning at him mockingly.

Bond took out his wallet and gave her one hundred and ten. ”Keep the change.” He mumbled and grabbed his bags before quickly leaving as if he had never been there. At least, he knew that he definitely wasn’t coming back.

Q better enjoy this.

He glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes. Damn, he hated being late. And his thoughts went back to poor, agonizing Q.

He ignored the look that people gave him as his transparent bags gave away the ton of pads and tampons that he had just bought. At least, he wouldn’t be accused as an inconsiderate boyfriend. He wanted a Nobel prize or something for this. Or at least a certificate of Best Boyfriend in the world. Bond was proud of himself.

He made his way back to the flat and then kicked his shoes as Q hated it when he wore shoes inside his flat. He put on the Hello Kitty slippers that Q had bought for him — Q had deemed them fitting and Bond had deemed them humiliating but surprisingly very comfortable — and made his way to the bedroom.

”I’m back, Q.” He announced.

Q was curled on the bed again, holding her phone between her hands, working. She looked up at him and then, her eyes fell on the bag.

Q didn’t register at first. It was too surreal to be registered, but eventually, his brain processed the information — especially since Bond was grinning as if he had just discovered E equal M C square.

”I needed one box of Always and one of Tampax, James.” Q said slowly, as if he was talking to a child.

”Yes, and among all of those, there must be exactly what you need.” Bond said, triumphant and proud of his own idea. To him, E equal M C square was nothing compared to his own idea. 

Q glanced at his face, and at the bags and at his face again and then burst laughing. ”You adorable big idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the lovely ladies of the 00Q Facebook group for the inspiration.
> 
> I listened to Julio Iglesias' Vous Les Femmes all the way through the writing process.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> P.S: I exaggerated a bit Bond's cluelessness for the sake of crack.
> 
> And a big virtual hug for every individual experiencing menstruation out there. We are awesome!


End file.
